


Oh sing, sing for your supper

by 1PB2PB3PB4



Category: You Yao | (有药) | Are You OK (Cartoon), You Yao | (有药) | Are You OK (Qi Ying Jun)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Pre-Canon, ramble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28875330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1PB2PB3PB4/pseuds/1PB2PB3PB4
Summary: All Lou Zhu wants to do is lie on a pile of gold and piss away his time.Ask anybody.Travellers are just entertainment for the Emperor, singing for scraps and praying for favour.Lou Zhu knows this, and he hates it.But he just wants to lie on a pile of gold and piss away his time.Ask anybody.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Focuses on chapter 1-4 and Lou Zhu and Zuo Yunqi, particularly with what we learn later about Lou Zhu and that he is far more manipulative and scheming than he seems in his lazier first appearance.
> 
> It's meant to be a look trying to better understand his motivations both for helping Zuo Yunqi and why he decided to ally with the Martial league and use his intelligence network to take down the Emperor.

Lou Zhu wants to rest on a pile of gold and piss away his time like an extravagant and incontinent dragon. He knows this, the Emperor knows this, the random employee on floor four knows this. People mutter about it, sometimes admiring and sometimes bitter.

Everyone knows this like everyone knows Best Tower, with its seven floors, is the tallest building in the land.

But Lou Zhu is exactly where he wants to be. He has the Emperor listening to him, which means that he  _ doesn’t _ have the Emperor looking at him, has a comfortable existence, and he has the honour of examining the travellers mouthy enough to speak up.

Sometimes there are scraps of information he can pick out after the Emperor’s done grinding their souls to dust. The stupid ones are imprisoned, the stupider ones still are set to work in the Imperial Court.

The smart ones like Lou Zhu aren’t particularly interesting, or talented but they are successful. And they’re early.

Sometimes when he has to pick through waves of corpses in a single day he wonders if it’s worth it for the paltry scraps he can dig up. But Lou Zhu has built his empire on information and now he gathers it up from across the land. Every so often someone  _ smart _ deigns his door. Someone who realises between him and the Emperor it is Lou Zhu who holds the better supper.

Lou Zhu makes sure to make sure they know not to sing too well.

Lou Zhu doesn’t really want to depose the Emperor. At least not  _ yet _ . Because he likes being in favour, it’s useful, it’s practical, and it’s what allows him to have a spy network which can determine which official banged which country mistress in a random state 17 years ago.

But one day, (and  _ soon _ , sooner if Lou Zhu wasn’t involved) the Emperor is going to be removed. So he needs allies.

It’s so deliciously perfect that protecting information for the Martial Alliance and other resistance groups both helps to give him credence in resistance circles while helping to keep the stability of the Emperor’s rule for now.

Look at him, look at him, the traveller who just sits on a pile of gold and pisses away his time making more of it.

It’s no real hardship to screen the travellers, though he makes a good show of it. Tries to see how many he can stall off from the Emperor’s cold clutches. Tries to not sicken at watching the army of corpses walk off to their second deaths.

The fakers are getting better as information is spread, but there’s almost always a few good ways of tripping them up and Lou Zhu is confident in his abilities. It’s not really laziness which stays his hand, which makes him slow.

(On the 8th floor of Best Tower there is a room of dead things. Things can’t really be dead, but they exude it nevertheless, thick and heavy and judgemental.)

If you ask anyone it’s laziness, or perhaps just his natural charm.

  
  


The Martial Alliance dragged Zuo Yunqi in front of him and asked him to judge the son of the most hated man in the kingdom. Even more hated than the Emperor- which only meant he was more desired.

“He’s a traveller,” he tells the Martial guards with absolute certainty as Zuo Yunqi fails his tests. He doesn’t like Martial guards much and doesn’t pay much attention. He likes the ones he likes- except he doesn’t  _ really _ like any of them- you can ask anyone that. The others he doesn’t like and he values his gold so he stays away.

Zuo Yunqi asks why he covered for him, and Lou Zhu might be lazy but he’s not stupid. Ask anyone. He almost wants to laugh as Zuo Yunqi gives bald faced excuses for his lack of knowledge with utter shamelessness.

He could use someone like this.

Someone who could be a transmigrator but was a native. And this specific native. Someone smart who knows to play a game and act and lie and keep it up.

And the less pragmatic and calculating part of him- it’s curious. Curious about his knowledge, curious and unsettled by that niggling feeling that he’s met him somewhere before.

It makes no sense because he’s definitely never met Zuo Yunqi, and he  _ can’t  _ be a transmigrator which means that Zuo Yunqi can’t be someone he met…  _ before _ . (The odds of such a thing happening would be practically minuscule, Lou Zhu would never place his chips on that.)

Life is a game and you only get ahead if you play it. Everyone has something you need and you only get ahead if you can get ahold of it. The people in charge with their thrones and their piles of gold and their ceaseless time to piss away are  _ bored _ .

So maybe Lou Zhu wants a little entertainment.

He tells Zuo Yunqi the basics, that the man can stay here. That the Emperor will decide his fate. That Lou Zhu will decide when to send him to it.

Lou Zhu could damn him right here and right now. He could try and give the man the tools to save himself, or he could do nothing.

But he’s so fucking  _ bored _ .

He’s got a few weeks, let him see how well Zuo Yunqi can sing for his supper. 

* * *

He writes a letter to Lin Kai. Not that it contains anything important of course. He is cordial with Lin Kai but no more. You can ask anyone.

Despite himself, Lou Zhu is pretty amused by Zuo Yunqi’s silent antics. Pretending to be ill, not caring about being tortured. Whimpering at the idea of dinner. (Everyone wants to sing for their supper when it gets down to it.)

Amusement though, it’s not necessarily enough. Not really worth his head if he gets busted. Not unless Zuo Yunqi can pull something else out, or explain  _ why _ he’s here.

Because Lou Zhu can think of plenty of reasons for someone to pretend to be a traveller, but not if that person is smart.

Smart people tend to want to stay far, far, away from the Emperor. (Don’t ask anyone that though).

Zuo Yunqi says “Damn you,” and for a brief moment he feels melancholic and homesick. There’s a reason he tends to try and rush the travellers through.

Seven stories below a red scarf calls out to him. He pushes it down.

* * *

Xiao Xue is concerned about his day drinking but Lou Zhu doesn’t give a shit. She doesn’t understand and Zuo Yunqi doesn’t understand either. There’s a red scarf calling out to him from a floor that doesn’t exit. Ask anyone.

“Why would I not understand? It’s not like I’ve never seen those TV dramas before,” Zuo Yunqi shoots back and Lou Zhu tightens his fingers on the cool edge of the glass.

He knows- he  _ knows _ \- that Zuo Yunqi isn’t a traveller. But sometimes in moments like this he really wishes.

He stares at Zuo Yunqi with a level of unbreaking intensity in his eyes and thinks.

Maybe he  _ is _ a traveller. But then if he is a traveller, what then?

He thinks of the room of dead things that doesn’t exist (ask anyone) and takes another drink.

  
  


* * *

Lin Kai has sent him a letter, and Lou Zhu still isn’t entirely sure where they lie. That’s the inherent problem of teaming up with someone to run a conspiracy, with the best people you can never be entirely sure they’re not conspiring against  _ you _ .

But looking around every corner gets you nowhere, a healthy dose of scepticism is all that is needed.

He commands Zuo Yunqi to read the letter- the letter confirming that Zuo Yunqi had indeed been captured and that it was not all a neat trick. Seemingly the last step in the eyes of his guest.

Thing is, this is the moment of truth. Zuo Yunqi is clearly literate, reading out a letter with practice and ease. This is the real test, the one that actually  _ matters _ when he gives it to people.

He watches him as something wages in his chest. Because this is when he confirms that Zuo Yunqi is just a liar, and however much he reminds Lou Zhu of  _ someone _ that it’s all fake.

If Zuo Yunqi were anyone else Lou Zhu would tell him to be grateful. Because Lou Zhu is saving him from having to dance before the Emperor and have his worth assessed. Except that Zuo Yunqi is not a man that anyone wants to be right now.

He can feel Zuo Yunqi tensing under his gaze, and it’s that which finally gives him the kick to give out the final test.

“Copy it down,” he says finally, and Zuo Yunqi goes to dip his brush.

“In simplified characters.”

He watches Zuo Yunqi freeze and the last vestiges of false hope crumble in Lou Zhu’s chest.

“I confess.” Zuo Yunqi says at last, this little game of cat and mouse they’ve been playing is over, and he shuts his eyes to hide it all.

“Get lost,” he says, with as much sympathy as he can muster.

He’s just a lazy and carefree businessman, he has no duty being involved in conspiracies and hiding fake travellers. Ask anyone.

He’s a smart man and he’s deeply embroiled in a conspiracy, he doesn’t have the security to hide a false traveller. Ask Lin Kai.

But seven floors below there’s a red scarf and Zuo Yunqi still knows too much for someone who isn’t a traveller. (And he reminds Lou Zhu of  _ someone _ .)

Lou Zhu scoffs when Zuo Yunqi tries to tell him that he learnt this from  _ Lin Kai _ . He probably thinks it’s a good bet because the Martial Leaguesman knows far more than a Native should. Little does Zuo Yunqi know that’s because of Lou Zhu himself though.

Zuo Yunqi continues to lie to him, shamefaced and uncaring that he’s been caught. He’s smart, desperate and unwilling to back down.

Lou Zhu could use that. It’s solely pragmatism.

It’s nothing to do with a red scarf and the woman who made it. Because neither of them exist- ask anyone.

  
  
  
  


Lou Zhu really doesn’t know what to make of the fact that Zuo Yunqi genuinely seems to think this whole 8th floor basement business is some elaborate scheme to execute him. There are plenty of easier and less risky ways for him to do it, as Zuo Yunqi himself is aware.

Maybe it’s because if you ask anyone he’s just a lazy rich fool.

He knows Zuo Yunqi is terrified and tensing up, he doesn’t really care. Let him get used to it, if he’s going to be any use to Lou Zhu then he’ll need to.

He picks up the knotted red scarf and ties it around his neck.

“I secretly brought this back,” he tells Zuo Yunqi, “It was made by a man and his death was ordered because it wasn’t good enough.” Because that’s the official story. Because Bo Mingyan didn’t really exist, just the corpse of the man she was in.

He points out all the treasures in the room, because all of it has been made with love. All of it was made by someone who just wanted to  _ live _ .

Distantly he wonders how many of them are still rotting in jail and how many have already rotted away.

Every item in this room has a story, and he has tried to find out who made each piece as is possible. After all,what else is he to do with his intelligence network?

This room is the sign of his failure and his weakness. His inability to protect people, and his reminder as to why he works with Lin Kai. It’s also a  _ point _ .

_ Is this really the road you want to go down, Zuo Yunqi? _

He sends people into the palace and to their fates. He doesn’t want to seend Zuo Yunqi off, because despite himself he’s fond of the man.

And because he’s useful, he’ could be so fucking useful.

“Maybe you really are a transmigrator, but there’s a reason stopping you from admitting it.” he says out of the blue, watches Zuo Yunqi startle distantly, as he steps forward, crowding him a little.

Zuo Yunqi steps back a little and Lou Zhu takes another big step forward.

“Maybe you told the truth, there was indeed a Transmigrator who taught you.” Zuo Yunqi is up against the wall and Lou Zhu lightens his tone. Watches Zuo Yunqi stiffen but not break.

He smiles, hopes he could use this.

“I hope you can tell me one day.”

When the Emperor’s gone maybe. So he better get his plan into play. Zuo Yunqi has proven that he’s more than good enough.

If Zuo Yunqi can fool him then he can fool the Emperor who doesn’t know what to look out for.

He tells Zuo Yunqi the tricks he only gives to the smart ones. 

Don’t sing too sweetly, he won’t let you go. Don’t sing too badly, he won’t give you any supper. Sing enough that he might keep you around.

Stay out of the Imperial Court.

Tomorrow will be the day of reckoning Lou Zhu supposes.

* * *

Tomorrow comes and goes and Lou Zhu is scared.

He hasn’t been played in so long, but the smell of conspiracy smells heavy in the air. There is no good reason for someone smart to want to be in the Emperor’s court, and Zuo Yunqi would have known jewellery appraisal was a trump card.

* * *

Lin Kai says that Zuo Yunqi wants to break into the palace. Lou Zhu has unintentionally placed him there.

Lin Kai must have known that Lou Zhu would do this. He  _ must have _ known.

He sends a frantic letter asking.

He’s not sure whether to laugh choke or cry, when Lin Kai finally sends a letter back with a simple “yeah.”

The bastard knew about the conspiracy, and this is why you never trust a plotter and Lou Zhu can feel himself desperately trying to claw back control, make sure the delicate balance is not upset too early.

Lin Kai had played him well and truly and Lou Zhu couldn’t even try to play him back. Not without damning himself. No fucking wonder Zuo Yunqi had seemed so familiar, making himself off of Lin Kai and Lou Zhu himself.

He tells Lin Kai that he had just wanted to be dumb and lazy. He’s not sure if Lin Kai believes him as the Martial Warrior explains this is for the peace of the universe.

Lou Zhu doesn’t care much about the universe’s peace, just his own.

But he guesses the two could go together. He wonders what the old lady would say to him now.

That’s why when his henchman starts worriedly demanding they do something Lou Zhu cuts him down with a scorn. There is no reason for him to get himself any more tangled up in this business of Pang Men and the Imperial Court.

* * *

Once it’s all over, and Zuo Yunqi has played the Pang Men, and Lou Zhu, and maybe even Lin Kai, Lou Zhu doesn’t know what to think.

A small part of him preens that his behaviour was so unpredictable that the Pang Men had not made a plan for his decision to send a known fake into the Imperial Palace.

Zuo Yunqi offers him the small incense in return for rent at Best Tower, and he can’t help but feel amused. Because he’s stupidly fond of the stupid man even though he shouldn’t be. He feels drawn in by his shameless attitude.

“Best Tower lacks me?” The sheer gall pleases Lou Zhu despite himself.

And he could still use him, still use a man who can scheme and play with the best of them. Especially one in the Imperial Court, but knows enough to escape their traps.

No Nahile incense exists anymore though, of course. He puts it in the room that doesn’t exist with the other belongings of dead travellers.

Because the traveller in Zuo Yunqi burned the palace of course. He can’t think of a more fitting place for the incense.

He watches Lin Kai and his group with a new form of wariness though.

He supposes it is time to move up the planning, the old Emperor is growing sick and he doubts that the new one will be so easy to play.

As he watches Zuo Yunqi flit around Best Tower he can’t help but think that Zuo Yunqi sings very well indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be in the middle of the last chapter, but I think it works better to be separate.
> 
> Lou Zhu's real kick into action. I imagine this to take place pretty early into his time as a traveller.
> 
> Just the whole basement room full of things that belong to people who were imprisoned for not being "good enough" and Lou Zhu stealing it back in secret really stuck with me. It was such a haunting image and yeah. Should have been a warning for this book wrecking me though.

A balding man had been brought before him to be assessed. They had smiled kindly but nervously at Lou Zhu.

When he’d dismissed her, she’d pinched his cheeks. He’d watched her go with an odd kind of fondness, told her to come back and visit.

She’d been hard to assess, because most of Lou Zhu’s tests were really just a ploy. The  _ real _ test was asking the supposed traveller to write in Simplified Characters. Bo Ningyan (that’s what she said her name was, and Lou Zhu had to feel sympathetic. An elderly woman in a middle aged man’s body.) couldn’t write. Normally that was the kind of bullshit that would have Lou Zhu sending them out on their rear but…

Well, if she  _ was _ an old woman then Lou Zhu better treat her with some respect. Besides, it didn’t seem like she could read very well either. Simplified or traditional. Illiteracy was rare, but not impossible he supposed.

“Tell me about your life”, he’d said, and then he’d settled down because if she really  _ was _ a kind old grandmother then she’d probably have a very long story to tell.

He’d asked her what she was going to display to the Emperor as a talent, a skill. Bo Ningyan had asked for some needles and a ball of yarn. A strange clutching tightness had made itself known in his chest but he ignored it.

He found the yarn and then went to go and grow his excessive pile of wealth. He’d known what happened to travellers who weren’t as smart or fortunate as him. What happened if you weren’t successful, if you didn’t sing quite sweetly enough in the Emperor’s court.

But they hadn’t been happening to  _ him _ , and he hadn’t  _ cared _ . All he wanted was money and more of it, and to piss away his time like an indolent lord.

Bo Mingyan had made a red scarf, typical for the elementary school children. The speed with which she’d made it, needles clacking and fingers blurring had been astonishing. She’d chattered away about her grandchildren and the grandchildren of her friends.

She’d promised to make him one, although it didn’t  _ have _ to be in red. Just after she’d presented this one to the Emperor of course. She was an old uneducated lady, what fancy skills did she have? But everyone wanted the home comforts of a soft scarf, made with love.

“Yes, that’s very true,” Lou Zhu had said through the pressure in his eyes and the fear in his heart. Then he’d sobbed. Just one had broken free, but it was enough.

Keen eyes that didn’t match the face they were in swept over him. “Is there something you want to tell me?” she had asked him, soft and non accusing. Gentle and kind and he’d felt so very alone and  _ guilty _ . As she’d patted his back.

Pulling himself together and away from her he had nodded his head once.

“We’re just a game, just  _ entertainment _ for the Emperor. We sing for him, be his dancing monkey, and then if we’re lucky he throws us enough scraps that we can get  _ out _ . Otherwise….” he’d shaken his head after trailing off. “You need to-”

“I won’t sing for anyone.” The old lady had said firmly, “I will present my scarf, and if this Emperor cannot see the value in it then it is a reflection on him. Not on me. Don’t cry child.”

He’d laughed then, laughed because no one thought of Lou Zhu as a child.

“You don’t get what will happen you-”

“I can guess,” Bo Mingyan had interrupted, stern but kind even now. “I’m much older than you, I’ve lived a long life. And I’ve seen  _ many _ things. Don’t concern yourself about me. I’ll come back and make you a nice scarf, maybe blue?”

“You won’t.”

“Maybe not,” she had conceded. “But I rather think my time may be over anyway. Thank you for letting me talk about my grandchildren one more time.” Bo Mingyan had clapped then, “I do think the Martial League will be coming for me now. It wouldn’t do for you, such a dashing young man, to be seen crying over an old fart like myself. Dry your eyes.”

She’d clicked her knitting needles threateningly.

  
  


A week later Lou Zhu had drifted round to the Imperial Palace to talk to the Emperor. Update him on the business of Best Tower in person. Show him that he was a  _ loyal _ subject. All stuff that Lou Zhu thought was usually best done via letter.

Why would he willingly walk into a snake’s den?

He’d asked about recent travellers over a cup of tea, asked if anything interesting had cropped up.

A cartographer apparently, no one else was mentioned.

“A lot of useless junk” the Emperor had told him, I might need to expand the dungeons.

“Might I have the honour of having a look, your Imperial Highness,” Lou Zhu had asked, bowing so low he felt the twinge in his back. “I have always been fond of knicknacks, perhaps a market could be found in odd trivialities.”

THe Emperor had peered at him, and Lou Zhu had shrugged, a slow and lazy thing. Lou Zhu knew of his sons, knew they were both sharp and cold.

But Lou Zhu was just a lazy idle man. Ask anyone.

  
  


The Emperor had said yes. Had allowed Lou Zhu permission to look at  _ all _ the discarded inventions in the future.

There was no red scarf. Just rusting bikes and a collapsed scooter. A painting with shocking dimensions.

He’d found a red scarf in a trash can on his way out and his blood had boiled.

Lou Zhu had put them into a basement which didn’t exist. Ask anyone. A dead room full of dead belongings of dead people. A red scarf was folded and carefully placed on a ledge, surrounded by rusting bikes and melancholy.

Then Lou Zhu had begun to invite various members of the Martial League to Best Tower for evenings funded entirely on his credit.

He was just a generous businessman, and everyone knows the best way to get people to come back was to get them hooked.  _ Ask anyone _ .

If Lou Zhu took to drinking with Lin Kai then well. They were both men at the top of their fields, why shouldn’t they enjoy a drink from time to time?

Seven floors below there is a red scarf that nobody knows about. It lies in a room that doesn’t exist and belongs to a woman who should have never existed, languishing in the body of a man who should have died.

Lou Zhu owes his position to the Emperor, and all he wants is to lie on a pile of gold and piss away his time. He has no reason to have a grudge.

  
_ Ask Anyone _ .


End file.
